<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>a beautiful day by almostteatime</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27824806">a beautiful day</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostteatime/pseuds/almostteatime'>almostteatime</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:53:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>518</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27824806</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostteatime/pseuds/almostteatime</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On the morning of the barricade, the sky is beautiful. One shot.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Combeferre/Courfeyrac (Les Misérables), Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a beautiful day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>something from my archives from a year ago.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sound of cannons were ear splitting as the National Guard set them off. </p><p>Enjolras was not prepared for this outcome no matter how many times he had imagined it happening. </p><p>Dust filled the air as the sounds of Enjolras’ friends dying filled the air. He was overwhelmed but would not go out without a fight. The orange and blue hues of the sky highlighted Enjolras’ features as he shot his gun. He looked like an oil painting come to life as he focused on killing his enemies. </p><p>He was not going to go out without a fight. </p><p>Enjolras turned to his left to see a sight he never wanted to see. Combeferre was holding Courfeyrac tenderly as the other bled out from one of the many wounds coming from his chest. Courfeyrac’s eyes had just glazed over, he was still warm. Enjolras could not bare seeing the raw pain in Combeferre’s eyes much longer. He put his hand on Combeferre’s shoulder. </p><p>“We do not have the time.” He simply stated, his face and demeanor cold. </p><p>Combeferre stood up and nodded, wiping tears from his dirt stained cheeks. He put the other man down onto the cobblestoned streets, shutting his eyes who were staring at the sky. </p><p>It was a beautiful day. </p><p>Enjolras got split up from his best friend as the other ran to his post, eventually finding the end of a bayonette plunged into his chest. </p><p>The fearless leader watched in horror as all of his friends were dead. The remainder of them were forced into the cafe until it was only Enjolras. He stood as a wilted flower in front of a firing squad. Above everything he was still beautiful. It was his youthful beauty that had been hardened like a marble statue. </p><p>There was stirring from behind the line of uniformed men. When Enjolras saw Grantaire he softened, he had found his humanity. The two men locked eyes and both seemed to understand what was about to happen. Enjolras wanted to urge Grantaire to flee. He didn’t even believe in the cause. It would be unfair for him to die for it. He was sure of what Grantaire was thinking. He probably thought Enjolras was a monster for what he had done to their friends. He probably wanted to tell him that he knew this wouldn’t work, how he knew from the beginning it was a suicide mission. </p><p>Although Grantaire didn’t leave him. He stepped towards him and Enjolras followed the other man’s movements. Grantaire could not believe what he was witnessing. He also couldn’t believe that his feet were moving towards the only man he had ever admired. </p><p>His Apollo. </p><p>Grantaire was nothing without Enjolras, he would admit that when he was drunk off of wine, and he was always drunk. Although, he was completely sober as he took Enjolras’ hand. The moment seemed to last forever. Enjolras had never looked more like a god. Grantaire felt like he had finally woken up. He was meant to do this. He was meant to die right here with Enjolras. </p><p>Then the final gunshots rang.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>